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Aldo isn't sure how the Holy Father manages to walk quite so fast down the hallway - the two of them are a similar height after all, and he's more accustomed to running after the likes of people like Cardinal Tremblay, who never used to adjust his pace for anybody, than somebody who should by all considerations know better than to zoom ahead.
"You're not that late, your Holiness."
Vincent shoots him a look over his shoulder, never once breaking stride.
"You of all people should know that on time is late for Cardinal Lawrence, he will have already arrived ten minutes early and be stressing-"
Aldo splutters with laughter.
"And Monsignor O'Malley will have been there ten minutes before him - yes, alright, I get it. They'll live, though. It's hardly a crisis."
"Many small inconveniences joined together might form the shape of a crisis if we let them; Cardinal Lawrence has been spreading himself too thin lately. I worry about him."
"You know, somebody really ought to follow after you with a notebook. What is it about becoming the Pope that makes a man so quotable?"
"Perhaps it is merely the placebo of my station that leads you to believe I am speaking wisdom."
"Mmhm. There you go again."
Vincent glances at him, and Aldo catches a glimpse of an impish smile. He's not even out of breath when they finally arrive at their meeting room, though Aldo's heart is pounding embarrassingly from their power-walk down the hallways of the Apostolic Palace.
It's clear that Vincent is impatient, because he doesn't wait for Aldo to catch up, he just turns the door handle and lets himself in. Aldo opens his mouth to make another snide remark, but then Vincent darts back out again and claps a palm over his mouth, shaking his head.
Aldo stares at him. Vincent puts a finger to his lips, then lets him go, waving him inside.
Upon poking his head in, he can see why.
Vincent was right. Thomas had indeed arrived early, alongside his faithful assistant. The two of them had carefully laid out an agenda, alongside a folder of carefully prepared notes and annotations, which lay open on the table in front of them.
But at some point, Thomas and Ray must have sat down next to each other. A dangerous choice.
Because now Thomas leaned against Ray, his cheek mashed against the taller man's shoulder. His brow was furrowed slightly even in his sleep, though his whole body turned towards Ray as if seeking solace in the crook of his neck. Ray's head rested atop Thomas', knocking his zucchetto slightly askew. His mouth was hanging slack, and one hand had sought out Thomas', their fingers curled loosely around each other, both hands resting on Thomas' knee. They'd managed to wilt towards each other in a way that meant they were propping each other up, which was admittedly very impressive.
Aldo rummaged around in his pocket and brought out his phone to snap a picture.
Beside him, Vincent carefully eased a sheet of paper from Ray's clipboard, then drew on it a crude stick figure approximation of himself and Aldo, smiling and holding a piece of paper. Above them, he drew a speech bubble that said "thank you!"
He left the drawing on the table in front of the two sleeping men, then slid the folder off the table. Ray was always thorough - his notes would be easy to follow.
In silence, the two of them agreed to let Ray and Thomas be for now. They clearly needed the rest.
And at any rate, Aldo had gotten what he wanted.
However, just before they left, Vincent gestured silently to him, pointing at his phone. It took Aldo a moment to discern what he was suggesting, but it took everything he had to stifle the laughter that bubbled up once he figured it out.
He opened his camera to front-facing, then stood next to Vincent, lining up the selfie with the two sleeping men in the background. Vincent gave the camera a delighted thumbs up, and Aldo pushed the button.