A/N: Some of you may be aware that I've been wanting to write a S7 AU for a while now. I had wanted it to be an 'And Molly Makes Three' story but I couldn't quite get it to work, so this is a different AU. Some of it will be the same as the series - like my S4 AU "Come What May" - but with a role-reversal twist, aside from that it pretty much follows canon. The title comes from the song of the same name that Dean Martin and Judy Holliday sing in Bells Are Ringing. Anyways, hopefully it works and you enjoy it! :)

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Just In Time

...
Just in time
I found you just in time
Before you came my time
Was running low
I was lost
The losing dice were tossed
My bridges all were crossed
Nowhere to go

Now you're here
And now I know just where I'm going
No more doubt or fear
'Cause I found my way
For love came just in time
-'Just In Time,' Dean Martin & Judy Holliday
...

"My god f*cking hates me."

The words still held true even though it had been two nights since she had spoken them. Nothing had changed: Eric was still missing; Tara was dead and she was tired…so very tired.

She closed her eyes briefly to gather her strength as she paused outside the old, apparently deserted building. Without their bond she had to be in fairly close proximity to her Maker in order to feel him and she could feel him now, she mustered up a small smile.

She was close.

Drawing herself up to her full height, Pam opened the door and made her way slowly down to the basement. She had everything prepared, knew exactly what she wanted to say but now that the time was finally here she was uncharacteristically nervous. Terrified even, by what her reception would be.

Eric had managed to evade her for months, he was either letting her find him now because he wanted to be found or he was going to tell her to leave him.

She suppressed a dry chuckle at the thought of the latter, she'd leave him soon anyway.

A small ripple of pleasure ran down her spine as she felt his presence grow stronger and suddenly nothing else mattered: he was here.

She took a deep unnecessary breath and rounded the final corner on the stairwell.

Eric was lounging in an old padded armchair, "You found me," he said tonelessly.

Without their bond, Pam couldn't get a clear idea of whether or not he was pleased that she had done so, but it didn't matter. She was finally in the same room with him again, no matter how the evening ended, she'd seen him again.

She opened her mouth to reply but nothing came out: no wry retort, not even any of her carefully prepared speech. Eric's brow creased slightly in concern as he watched her scramble for something – anything – to say.

Pam felt panic well up inside of her as she realised that she was losing her rather tenuous control over herself, she tried once again to say something but all that came out was a pained moan as she dropped to her knees.

Now that she was finally in the presence of her Maker it seemed that her body had decided to give up on her.

It took Pam several confused moments to process what had happened and why she was suddenly staring at the ground, it took another couple of moments to realise that Eric was kneeling at her side.

"Pamela?" he asked, his voice no longer toneless but concerned.

She looked blearily up at him, drawing in ragged breaths that she didn't need as she attempted to steady herself.

Suddenly his face hardened and he reached out to rip the high collar off the shirt she was wearing. Even though he'd expected it, he couldn't prevent the shocked gasp that escaped as he saw the evidence that she'd been infected.

"How long?" he asked, his voice hoarse as he continued to stare at the tell-tale dark veins marring her skin.

"A month, maybe two," she replied softly, giving up all pretence of strength and lying down on her side against the hard stone floor.

"Were you planning on telling me?"

Pam's eyes slipped shut, "Yes," she murmured, "eventually."

Eric hesitated before lying a hand on her shoulder, irrationally terrified that he might hurt her, "I'm so sorry."

Pam shrugged a shoulder, "Not your fault."

"I should have been there," he said firmly.

Pam slowly opened her eyes, "Perhaps," she agreed, "but all that matters to me is that you're with me in the end."

Eric removed his hand and leapt to his feet as though she'd burnt him, "You are not going to die," he told her.

Pam smiled softly as her eyes closed once more, "Stubborn Viking," she mumbled affectionately.

Eric pursed his lips, "Does Tara know?" he asked finally, more out of duty than anything else. He'd really prefer not to have the younger vampire around, ruining his last moments with his Child.

Pam froze for an instant, "She's dead," she replied flatly.

"I'm sorry," Eric said sincerely, dropping to his knees beside her once more.

"I never wanted her, but it still was a blow," Pam admitted, opening her eyes once more to look up at him.

Eric carefully gathered her into his lap, "Losing you would be more than just a blow for me," he whispered, "there has to be a way to fix this."

Pam nestled deeper into his embrace, taking a deep breath of his comforting scent, "Perhaps Sarah Newlin would know," she mumbled against his chest.

It was Eric's turn to freeze, "She's still alive?" he asked in disbelief, looking down at her.

Pam nodded tiredly, "Jason let her go."

"I always knew he was a fool," Eric muttered absently as the wheels started to turn in his head. "Perhaps we should pay her a visit," he said finally, looking down at Pam with a smirk.

Pam looked up at him with something like her old spark twinkling in her eye, "Perhaps we should."