"I think I've got it," Sherlock said, with a self-satisfied grin.
John and Mrs. Hudson looked at him quizzically. The consulting detective simply glanced at them.
"Silence, please. I'll only play this once before Bailey hears it, so pay attention the first time."
John and Mrs. Hudson shared an amused look, before settling down.
What issued forth from Sherlock's violin was something that made them both close their eyes and smile. Little Bailey Lestrade, whether boy or girl (For Greg and Molly steadfastly refused hints either way) might certainly enter the world on a joyful note – literally, and figuratively.
"Well, Sherlock," Mrs. Hudson said softly, "Any baby would be fortunate to have that be the first thing they hear."
"Well done, my friend," John praised. "Molly and Greg will be pleased. Have you recorded it yet?"
"Oh, don't be ridiculous," Sherlock retorted. "Molly has two weeks yet. There's still plenty of time to record "Bailey's Welcome" for posterity. I'm not concerned in the least."
The three fell silent for a moment as John's phone, then Mrs. Hudson's, then Sherlock's, toned with their customized alerts.
"Oh, shit," John said simply, as he checked his messages.
"How soon can you have that in the can" John muttered, "because I think Bailey is about to make his opening bow."
Sherlock sneered. "HER opening bow!"