Set Post-Reichenbach, after Sherlock's return from the dead (and John's inevitable punch-then-hug reaction 8D).
Cecina is a small city in Tuscany, which is a region of Italy. For those who don't know :)
Thanks to Lunarkid for answering my random and specific questions about Tuscany xx
A warm breeze ruffled John's longer-than-usual hair as he stepped out onto the small balcony and took in the beautiful view of Cecina at dusk. The moonlight was dancing on the ocean, the beach located a little less than a mile from the apartment. It even smelt amazing; the sweet scent of flowers and grass mixed in with another kind of fragrance that John couldn't name. It was crisp and fresh and tempered the sweetness of the flowers, which would otherwise be overpowering.
"Summer," said a voice behind him, as arms wrapped around his waist and a familiar body pressed close behind him.
"Hmm?" John asked, leaning back into the embrace.
"Summer," Sherlock repeated. "You were trying to name the scent of the city. It smells like summer."
John inhaled again, considering this. "Yes. That's exactly right."
"Of course it is," the detective murmured, leaning down to press his lips against John's jaw. "I'm always right."
John made a contented 'hmm' sound in the back of his throat and closed his eyes. It had been Sherlock's idea to come here, to get away from London and properly rebuild their relationship away from the backlash caused by his apparent resurrection. Sherlock had chosen Cecina because he thought John would love it.
John smiled. He did love it.
Yes, Sherlock was always right.