Work Text:
voluble \VOL-yuh-buhl\, adjective:
1. Characterized by a ready flow of speech.
2. Easily rolling or turning; rotating.
3. (Botany) Having the power or habit of turning or twining.
Voluble derives from Latin volubilis, "revolving, rolling, fluent," from volvere, "to roll."
***
Back in the day when he was a young watcher, Giles despised the times the head of his section would gather the troops to inform them of the Council's latest policies and -- upon very rare occasions -- ask them if they had any thoughts or questions. It wasn't that Giles was frightened of the grim, grey men; after all, he'd seen more horrors at the age of twenty-four than many a watcher had seen in twenty-four years of service. Oh, no, he wasn't terrified of them. Unfortunately, he couldn't say the same for his fellows and the atmosphere of fear in the days preceding such a gathering was almost unbearable.
He'd not been at all pleased to see that same look of fear in the eyes of some of his youngest staffers the first time he called the Field Operations Section together and he worked hard to make it clear when he asked for questions, he wanted his people to speak up. It'd been hard work over the past five years, but, gradually, the trust that this was one place where they actually could speak their mind had sunk in. The questions had been tentative at first, mere fluff to prove they had heard his request, but over time, the questions gained substance and the monthly meetings often turned into rather lively affairs.
This was not one of them. McVane was one of their best research boffins, a man who could translate at an amazing rate with more than a fair amount of accuracy and the information he had to impart was often of great importance to the work they did, but "voluble" did not begin to describe his style of speaking. Nor did it help when Giles intercepted the note Harry passed to Mike that read, Think we're ever going to get out of the Pliocene Epoch? There was a reason he didn't let those two sit together.
Unable to stand it any longer, Giles waited until McVane paused to take a breath -- which was at least two minutes after he'd made the decision. When the opportunity came, though, he quickly announced, "I'm afraid we'll have to cut it short. Do you have something you can distribute to everyone the summarizes the issue? If they have further questions, they can contact you directly."
McVane looked slightly disappointed, just as he always did when he ran over the time that had been allotted, but he promised everyone he would have the document to them in the next few hours. A few final announcements and the staff scattered, free for another month. The usual suspects were not so quick to move, Charlotte stopping to speak with Spike, Harry and Mike lingering as they discussed where they should eat lunch and whether or not it was overcast enough for their partner in crime to go with them. To Giles' surprise, however, McVane stayed behind, clearing his throat a bit anxiously as he approached. "Could I speak with you a minute, sir?"
Damn. There was that fear in the man's eyes, accompanied by a slight twitching of the fingers. Giles had tried to be as neutral as possible when cutting him off, but McVane wasn't a fool and he had to have noticed the expressions of relief on the faces around the table. "What's on your mind?" he asked, taking a seat once more and gesturing for McVane to do the same. This was probably going to take longer than he would like, but the man was too valuable to be lightly brushed aside.
McVane hesitated for a moment before sitting. "I talk too much and too long. I'm sorry. I'll try to do better."
This caused a lifted eyebrow; the man was more self-aware than Giles had given him credit for. "You could be a bit more concise," he allowed.
"It's just that I get caught up in what I'm talking about and I suppose I forget that not everyone shares the same enthusiasm." He sighed. "They're not going to read what I send them, are they?"
Giles considered the documents which sometimes felt as if they were approaching the size of the Greater London phone book. "You could be a bit more concise there as well."
There was a moment's silence as his words were digested, then McVane nodded. "I'll do that, Mr. Giles. I'll make an effort to be more concise in both my presentations and the compilations I send out." He rose. "I mean, do they really need more than forty pages or so?"
No, they weren't out of the Pliocene Epoch yet, but at least it was a start.