"Three?" Seamus scoffed. "I'd say two, in your case." He grinned off at her and shrugged, leaning against the bar with his movements. "Me? I've been the same. Gettin' piss drunk, running about. Causing loadsa trouble. You know."
He poured another round and raised it into the air as Tom approached them. The bartender rolled his eyes and wandered off and Seamus chuckled. "He's a bit cross with me," he explained. "Old fella thinks he can outclass me on the playing field." Which, for them, was picking up birds. They had a running bet, but it wasn't exactly being taken seriously as Tom was practically ancient and all. It was still amusing, either way.