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DISCLAIMER: All characters are the products of Chris Carter.
They also belong to Ten-Thirteen Productions and the Fox
Network. No copyright infringement intended.

TITLE: The Crying Room
AUTHOR: Christine Leigh 
E-MAIL: leighchristine@hotmail.com 
RATING: PG 
CATEGORY: V, MSR 
SPOILERS: Requiem.
SUMMARY: Post-ep for "Requiem."  Third person POV. 
Scully returns to Bellefleur.
          
The Crying Room
By Christine Leigh
Bellefleur, Oregon
June 2000
     
Friday night
Check-in

She isn't very friendly.  Guarded, maybe.  Most people would
probably say that 'hostile' would best describe her demeanor.  I
don't know.  I try not to be too quick to judge people, and I'd
only seen her the one time before, about a month ago, when she
and the other agent had been here.  Agent Gorgeous with the
to-die-for eyes.  And his name, get this, was Fox.  I'll be blunt. 
If I hadn't gotten an instant vibe off him that indicated he wasn't
interested in anyone besides her, I'd have broken a few rules. 

No, make that all the rules.  He'd done most of the talking on
that occasion since he'd done the registering, and it hadn't been
much, but with a man like that, you don't really need much. 
Two rooms.  Yeah, sure.  My spies say that she spent at least
one night in his.  Have to love Housekeeping - they're very
good at their job.  My internship here ends soon and I'll be gone
come September when the fall quarter starts, so until then
whatever entertainment, or in this case intrigue, can be found is
welcome.  

I'm not a soap fan, but the real life stuff sucks me in every time. 
And this is one hell of a situation if the stories are to be
believed.  I know it sounds crazy, but apparently this
abduction- by-alien thing is a big, but mostly unspoken about,
part of the local folklore, if you can call it that; the stories of
the kids who disappeared several years ago.  And now the one
who came back is gone again.  He was cute.  And friendly.  Not
like his dad.  I'd encountered both of them during that time last
month.  It's all very strange.  And even stranger if it's true,
Agent Gorgeous is gone now, too.  He returned here a few days
after they'd gone back to D.C., and he hasn't been seen since
shortly after that.  And now here she is again, and he's not with
her.  My rational side (yes, I have one) is saying that he's down
with the flu, or assigned elsewhere.  Or, maybe that night was a
rule-breaker and they got busted.  He could be working with
someone else now.  Yeah, sure.  One thing I think is true,
though, is that they always work in pairs.  And tonight she's
alone.  She didn't register as a federal agent this time, but
somehow I don't see this as a vacation.  Also, and this says a
lot, she asked for his room.  The one where they'd spent the
night together according to my sources.  I had to look it up to
confirm that after she'd left the desk, and sure enough, it was
the same room.  For a flash there, when I'd said that it was
available, she looked so grateful.  Then she asked that no calls
be put through unless from a Walter Skinner.  I looked that one
up and hit the jackpot again.  He'd been with Agent Gorgeous
on the return trip.  She kind of sounded desperate when she'd
made that request.  Who, I wondered, didn't she want to hear
from?  On second thought, maybe it's not hostility.  Maybe
she's tired.  This is a long way to come for a couple of nights of
sleep, but given the details of this particular story, that's not
exactly a strange thing.  I'm glad the room wasn't already taken.

*****
Sunday morning
Check-out

Well, this time there wasn't anything juicy, but then there
would have had to have been an 'occurrence' I suppose for that
to be, and nothing was reported over the last two nights.  Agent
Gorgeous is still not here, in other words.   

I'm not sure if I'll miss all this stuff some when I leave or not.  I
was never anything more than a casual sci-fi fan, "E.T." and all,
but now I don't know if I could watch even that movie without
it being colored by what's happened here.  At any rate, I don't
imagine I'll ever stop wondering what happened to him.  

Fox. 

No, I think I'll stick with Agent Gorgeous.  

Housekeeping is on their game though.  Myra told me this
morning that there was nothing to report from 'the room' aside
from the sound of crying last night; Friday had been silent. 
She'd delivered an extra pillow and then hung around outside
for awhile afterward.  The lights were soon out, and then she'd
heard it.  It was low and muffled, but it was definitely crying. 
She hadn't stayed long after that, it was too hard she'd said. 

The woman had looked so sad when she'd taken the pillow
from her.  Myra asked me about him then.  She hadn't been on
shift during the time the two of them were here before.  I told
her I'd never seen a man like that before, and that Agent
Gorgeous wasn't an exaggeration at all.  And his eyes.  God,
those eyes.  The most beautiful brown eyes I'd ever seen and
hoped to have look back at me ever.  We were just short of
giggling like a couple of twelve-year olds when it happened. 

There she was, standing there ready to check out.  We were so
busted.  Our backs had been to the door, and I hadn't heard it
open.  She was good at her job, too, apparently.  I tend to blush
easily, and hoped I wasn't too close to crimson as I handed her
the bill.  If she was angry, her voice didn't betray her.  

And then
I could see that her eyes were wet.  She wasn't crying now, not
exactly, but I felt like she would with the right provocation.  I
don't have any sisters, but I felt for a moment like I wanted to
hug her as though she were one.  What would she do without
him, I wondered?  She was clearly in agony.  She signed the
bill, and gave me her key.  The only words she had spoken
were to say "thank you" when I'd handed her the piece of paper. 
Perfunctory nothingness.  She turned and walked away.  I doubt
I'll ever see her again.  

She was almost through the door, and then she turned back to
look at me.  It was just a short distance; it's a very small
reception area.  I thought I saw a brightness there for a moment,
surrounding her, kind of like a cartoon version of a star on top
of a Christmas tree with little lines in all directions indicating
points of light.  Weird doesn't begin to describe the scene
before me.  Her voice brought us back to earth.   
     
"Hazel.  His eyes are hazel."  She left.

- end  -
leighchristine@hotmail.com