Mrs. Frederic gathers everyone around a large, stone table to view highlights from past agents' careers. It's thrilling to watch superstars make their best snag-n-bags, but when Artie learns that he and his cohorts are going to have to add their defining moments to the collective memory of the table, he nearly flips it over: this ritual is the sign that the Warehouse is moving.
Artie isn't the only one who's not ready. Pete gets so incensed that he very nearly drags Mrs. Frederic's name through the mud, but Claudia stops him by allowing the table to choose her defining memory, a glitzy affair where she out-tap danced dozens of tapping showgirls (manifested via artifact, of course). But everyone's surprised when a sour face follows her big success. Mrs. Frederic guesses correctly that that was the moment Claudia doubted whether she wanted to be Caretaker – after all, being an agent is the best job ever. Pete can't take anymore memories and stomps away, while Artie, shocked that Claudia has kept this ginormous secret from him, volunteers a very specific memory.
He's in an abandoned lot with a young man near midnight, when the lot begins to shiver and come alive with a 1940s officers' club. He and this young man, Scott, have only 25 minutes before the clock strikes midnight and an artifact keeps the entire club in a time loop for all eternity. Scott notices something fishy about a lady with a champagne glass, and he and Artie bag the glass just before the final chime of the clock, saving the day. When Scott calls Artie, Dad, the memory screeches to a halt as Claudia assaults Artie with a face full of "WTF?" and has her own stomping away moment.
Artie goes after her, explaining that the memory was his way of saying, in order to stay sane, you have to be a little selfish. Artie wants her to be Caretaker, but he knows that she can only do it if she puts herself first. She takes the lesson – especially when Artie mentions that parenting Scott has made him a better father to her.
Jinks and Mrs. Frederic are laughing away at some jolly joke from Mrs. F's past when Myka, who tried to help Pete through his tantrum, returns. She places her hand on the table and a story of her and Pete kicking the butts of five suburban ninjas scrolls out before them. They triumph, of course, and Myka's look to Pete at the end of the memory tells Jinks everything he needs to know: she's in love with Pete! Mrs. Frederic probably knew all along.
The stunned Myka goes to find Pete, who's desperately trying to stop the compass that moves the Warehouse from spinning, and he won't be distracted by anything less than a passionate kiss from Myka. Like a splash of cold water, the kiss wakes him up, and when they confess their love for each other, Pete softens enough to let Myka know that he can't stand losing who he is in the Warehouse, and who he is with her. She tells him he'll never lose that second part, no matter what.
They head back to the room with the others, where Jinks has just seen a memory that made him realize how much peace the Warehouse has given him. Pete is ready to place his hand on the table, but it's not just one memory that the Warehouse selects to define him – it's all of them. Pete's entire tenure here has defined him, and shaped the Warehouse.
The sense of tranquility doesn't last long – there's a ping about someone breathing fire in Poughkeepsie. They scurry off to save the world for what may be their last time.
…But decades later, a grumpy old man is ordering two new recruits around, trying to get to the bottom of whether Obama's basketball was used in a new ping. Ms. Donovan appears silently behind them, calms their fears about committing to such a massive venture, and stills any rumors of the Warehouse moving. "If I had a nickel for every time the Warehouse might move…" she says, getting lost in a memory. Before the new recruits have a chance to ask her what she meant, she disappears without a sound – in that same eerie way her predecessor Mrs. Frederic once did.
On a rainy day at the Warehouse, Pete accidentally triggers an artifact that transforms the team into two-dimensional diorama versions of themselves, and returns the Warehouse to its original, unstable design.
Who knew Claudia had those moves?! OK, so maybe they're artifact-induced, but we're so in love with the spangles, we don't care!