REUTERS: FNC Producer Chad Pergram and Roy Blunt (R-MO), Capitol Hill, Sept. 27

By Chad Pergram, Senior Producer, House of Representatives

Teenage pages decked out in dark blue uniforms roam the halls of Congress every day. They serve as messengers to courier bills, the text of amendments and other correspondence between Congressional offices and to the House and Senate floor.

Saturday night, House Minority Whip Roy Blunt (R-MO), Budget Committee Chairman Kent Conrad (D-ND) and Rep. Rahm Emanuel (D-IL) assumed the same roles as the teens. This came as heir fellow lawmakers hunkered down to craft emergency financial legislation designed to stave off the worst fiscal crisis since 1929.

The trio ferried missives and new ideas back and forth between Democratic negotiators huddled in the office of House Speaker Nancy Pelosi (D-CA) and the quarters of House Minority Leader John Boehner (R-OH).

The press hasn’t paid this much attention to Congressional pages since Mark Foley.

A phalanx of reporters accosted each “page”as they strode between the office suites. The scribes mined each trip for a nugget of information or sought a turn of phrase that could convey how the closed-door negotiations were going.

At one point, Kent Conrad wondered aloud how many times he walked back and forth between the offices.

“This is a new exercise regime,” he quipped, joking that the Capitol Physician recommended it to him. “You have to walk briskly.”

Henry Kissinger shuttle diplomacy efforts with the Middle East weren’t as intense as this scene.

A bit later, Roy Blunt emerged from the GOP bunker and walked toward the Speaker’s office, sans jacket. Many in the press wondered if Bunt’s appearance signaled the sides were getting down to the nub.

Blunt then headed back to Boehner’s office. And then he repeated the circuit.

Each time, the Minority Whip carried a slip of paper curled up in his hand. He reminded me of legendary University of Louisville basketball coach Denny Crum who stalked the sidelines with a program rolled up in his clutch.

I asked Blunt if that he toted a different piece of paper each time he made the trip.

“You bet,” Blunt said.

A sign of progress.

Then Rahm Emanuel got into the act. He also lost his sports coat.

“It’s a boy,” Emanuel joked as he navigated the journalistic gauntlet.

Certainly watching this process was as tedious as childbirth. And arguably as painful for the throng of reporters trolling the hallways waiting for lawmakers to spawn a bill from the legislative maternity ward.

The midwifery was not lost on Rep. Ed Pastor (D-AZ). Members of Congress from both sides of the aisle were already dubious about the cost of this bill. And Pastor wondered what legislative offspring his Congressional leaders were midwifing.

“You’re waiting for the delivery and hoping that the baby ain’t that ugly,” Pastor said.

Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid (D-NV) joined the session around 9:30 pm.

“Will you reach a deal tonight?” hollered one reporter.

“The night doesn’t end for a long time,” Reid responded, drawing a groan.

Reporters and photographers lingered for hours in the Capitol’s Statuary Hall as they scraped for the bill’s details. The arrival of a tray of food from Cosi prompted one lawmaker to exclaim we were going to be there a while. And food and caffeine soon became a central element to this waiting game.

Kent Conrad declared that the Republican pizza was better than the Democratic fare. I tried to bribe him with a mini-Snickers bar to offer up some details. He didn’t accept the Snickers. But the Senator did announce they phoned financier Warren Buffet for advice. He also indicated lawmakers clued-in representatives from the presidential campaigns of both John McCain and Barack Obama.

Meantime, journalists gulped coffee and chomped snacks. TV crews unceremoniously discarded Chinese takeout boxes around the statues of William Jennings Bryan and Robert E. Lee.

The carcass of what had once been a pepperoni pizza lay at the feet of Sam Houston. To satiate the press, Nadeam Elshami, a spokesman to House Speaker Nancy Pelosi, brought out a plate of California-produced almonds.

Not to be outdone, Don Stewart, Communications Director to Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell (R-KY) offered Hershey’s kisses. Stewart apparently couldn’t locate a paper plate. So he distributed the Kisses in a filter designed for a Mr. Coffee machine.

In between the snacking, TV crews competed for shots as negotiators trekked back and forth.

Treasury Secretary Hank Paulson clearly wasn’t used to being chased by the press every time he ventured onto the Capitol grounds. Finally, with the Secretary safely ensconced in John Boehner’s office, a squadron of U.S. Capitol Police officers instructed the media that they were not to pursue Paulson when he walked to the Speaker’s Office. Six burly officers then formed a protective body cordon around the 6’2” Paulson when they escorted him to the final round of talks.

We got some okay video of Paulson. But frankly, FOX pulled off the video coup of the night.

I keep a set of binoculars in my booth on the third floor of the Capitol. I grabbed them because at night, you can look from the House wing of the building and see through the windows of Speaker’s Office and Minority Leader’s office at the center of the building.

Shooting through the window and into one in Boehner’s office, FOX cameraman Rick Suddeth managed to grab a phenomenal shot of Paulson, sitting on a couch in the middle of the negotiations.

Still, Paulson wasn’t the only one perturbed by the press barrage.

After the principals announced the tentative deal around 12:30 am et, House Financial Services Committee Chairman Barney Frank (D-MA) said he was pleased he wouldn’t have to tolerate the incessant questions of reporters much longer.

Lightning-fast with a quip, Frank drew a laugh when he remarked that the time was coming when he “won’t have to speak to any of the people who are here.”

Reporters still pursued Frank about specifics in the agreement. And the Congressman remained mum as he boarded a Capitol elevator to leave for the night.

“This is where the needs of your profession and mine diverge,” Frank said.