I have a definite, strong, and fairly idiosyncratic idea of Noel's personality, which I've displayed to a great extent here... in a fic which almost kills me with the cute. I mean, toxic levels of cute. But I guess that's sort of my Noel for you.
Here there be spoilers. You are warned. Other than that, no warnings. I don't even think there's any profanity.

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     Less than two minutes later the door to the Linga constable's office banged open to admit a breathless and wild-eyed Bowman, Nineh in tow. Fortunately for everyone's sanity, the constable's office didn't hold with having a bell over the door. The constable himself, a short and blocky man named Savin, focused his sad spaniel's eyes on the panting pharmacist and his wife, and waited patiently until they started to catch their breaths. Before Bowman could say anything, he mildly inquired, "Can I help you with something, Mr. Jean?"
     "I... yes, please, you've arrested someone named Noel Chandler?" Even with Keith's confirmation, the words still seemed ridiculous to Bowman, and he had to work hard not to end the sentence with a little nervous laugh.
     But after a long moment, the constable nodded, slowly, and waved one stubby hand at the chairs in front of his desk. "Please, Mr. Jean, Mrs. Jean. Sit down."
     They sat, Bowman collapsing into the chair rather abruptly. The constable watched them both for a moment longer, as if to assure himself that they weren't going to do anything rash, and then turned to fish a couple of sheets of paper out of a small stack next to him. Turning back to the desk, the constable picked up his mug of coffee and sipped from it, consulting the papers with excruciating slowness; after a minute of this Bowman rather impatiently burst out with "Please, tell me what he's been arrested for!"
     There was a brief and maddening pause. The constable carefully put his mug down, laid the papers on his desk, folded his hands on top of them, and said, "Assault."
     "Assault?" Bowman spluttered, at the exact same moment that Nineh said "Noel?"
     Another pause, as the constable looked them both over appraisingly. Then, with a sigh and a soft grunt, he pushed his chair back and stood up. "Why don't I take you two back to the holding cell so that you can talk to him? And when you're done, you and I can talk."

     Their footsteps echoed down the long damp stone hallway that connected the constable's office to the jail itself. Linga was a fairly small and law-abiding town; the 'jail' was really only a single large cell. Three walls of stone and one wall of bars, the cell was lit by high narrow barred windows and lined with simple wooden benches. Large enough to comfortably hold twenty people, right now the room only contained two: a large man snoring drunkenly away on one of the benches -- and in the far corner, huddled on the floor with his knees pulled up against his chest, a smallish man with curiously long elfin ears: Noel.
     Bowman grabbed the bars in both hands and swallowed, forcing some semblance of cheerfulness into his voice. "Noel? Hey, man, you okay?" 
     Noel's head lifted slowly, his eyes squinted almost shut against the midafternoon sunlight. He seemed undamaged, perfectly calm, almost ridiculously out of place and yet relatively at home; as Bowman came into view Noel's face split into a wide and beaming grin, and he staggered to his feet, clutching his bundled-up jacket in his arms. "Bowman! Nineh! Hey! I'm really glad to see you two... I need a favor, man..." 
     Bowman couldn't help but laugh. "I, uh, yeah, I'd say you do..."
     Noel joined Bowman and Nineh at the bars, still clutching the shapeless bundle. "Man, I hate to bother you like this, but..." Noel reached up with his free hand and scratched the back of his head, looking embarrassed. "... can you maybe go over to my place tonight and make sure the animals get fed? I don't want 'em to have to go hungry while I'm in here..."
     Bowman swallowed again, a little harder, and started to say something, but Nineh stalled him with a hand on his arm. Offering Noel a small and not entirely easy smile, she said, "I'll do it right away, Noel, just as soon as I leave the station. Okay?"
     "Oh, man, thanks, really appreciate it..." Noel turned the full force of that beaming loopy grin on Nineh, who couldn't help but answer it with a smile of her own. The next few minutes were a brief whirlwind of instructions: let the cat out, feed the baby bunnies in the big cardboard box downstairs, refill the bathtub for the turtle if it needed it but don't feed it tonight, please fill the big bowl on the front stoop with dried meat for the neighborhood strays... eventually Noel ran down and offered Nineh another grin, looking a little embarrassed now. "... and thanks a lot, man, really, I was worried about 'em..."
     The hand on Bowman's arm tightened warningly, and he closed his mouth again. Reaching through the bars, Nineh patted Noel gently on the shoulder with her other hand and continued, "I'll take care of the animals, Noel, so I want you to concentrate on getting yourself out of trouble now, okay? Take care of yourself and let me take care of them."
     Noel blinked and looked around, as if it were just dawning on him that he was, in fact, in jail. Finally, with a faint laugh, Noel mumbled, "... I, uh, yeah, I guess that'd be good..." and tightened his arms on the bundled-up jacket.
     Which yipped.
     A moment later, much to the startlement of Bowman and Nineh, a tiny scraggly white puppy poked its head up out of Noel's jacket and did its level best to lick Noel's chin. Laughing now, Noel ruffled the puppy's ears and resettled him carefully into the jacket. The puppy curled up against Noel's chest as if there was nowhere in the world it would rather be. Which, knowing Noel, was probably true.
     Finally, blinking, Nineh stretched her hands out uncertainly towards the puppy. "... do you want me to take the puppy with me, Noel? Back to your place?"
     Noel's head jerked up, and he blinked at Nineh uncomprehendingly for a moment before shaking his head. "No, thanks, s'cool of you to offer, but I think I better keep him with me, he's still really nervous around other people..."
     No amount of subtle squeezing could keep Bowman quiet any longer. "Noel, what happened? Why are you in here? What did you do?"
     "Huh? Oh..." Noel's smile faded and vanished, replaced by a scowl. He scratched the puppy's ears idly; a strange rhythmic movement in the folds of Noel's jacket suggested that the puppy was probably wagging its entire rear end in response. "... man, some guy kicked him! Just hauled off 'n kicked him in the ribs 'cause he got in his way! You shouldn't kick puppies, man..."
     All of a sudden, everything was far too clear. "... so you hit him."
     "I told him not to do that, man, and he laughed at me and pulled his foot back like he was gonna kick the puppy again, and... well, you know, man, I couldn't let him do it..."
     Bowman leaned his head against one of the bars. All of a sudden, he had the strangest urge to laugh, or to cry, or to reach through the bars and shake Noel, maybe to do all three. "And then he called the police on you, right?"
     Noel nodded, carefully detaching the puppy's teeth from the collar of his jacket. The puppy started chewing on Noel's finger instead, and the scowl magically vanished; completely oblivious to everything, including the trouble he was in, Noel beamed down at the puppy. "He's really cute, isn't he?"

     Leaving Noel and the puppy behind wasn't precisely easy, but they didn't have much choice. In the hallway, Bowman stopped and tugged his wife towards him, enveloping her in a fierce hug. Burying his face in her hair, he murmured, "God, the poor little guy."
     "... I know. I'm going to go see to the animals. You see what you can do for him, all right, dear?" Nineh leaned up and kissed Bowman on the cheek.

     Carefully, Bowman lowered himself back into one of the chairs in front of the constable's desk, and clasped his hands loosely in front of him. Savin waited patiently, politely, his own hands folded on top of the arrest report that had Noel's name written across the top. Finally, looking up, Bowman said, very matter-of-factly, "I can't leave him in there. What do I need to do to get him out?"
     Savin watched Bowman carefully for a moment, then sighed and shook his head, slowly. "I'm afraid there's nothing you can do, Mr. Jean. He'll have to stay in there until the magistrate holds court tomorrow, at which point his case will be reviewed. If he's found guilty, then he'll be penalized appropriately." 
     Both of Bowman's hand clenched into fists, and it was only with an effort that he managed to keep his voice steady. Hopelessly, he asked, "What's going to happen to him? Is Noel going to go to prison? For how long? It'll kill him."
     Savin fell silent for a moment, considering Bowman, then visibly relented. "Look. Mr. Jean. I know he's a friend of yours, and I know you're worried about him, so let me see if I can't put your mind at ease. Tomorrow afternoon, the magistrate is going to hear cases, including your friend's." One meaty hand tapped the arrest report. "And your little harmless-looking friend is going to get up on the witness stand holding on to that little harmless-looking puppy and tell everyone in the court what happened, and then you're going to get up on the witness stand after him and tell everyone in the court how harmless he usually is." Savin's tiny reddened eyes watched Bowman's carefully, looking not entirely unsympathetic, even though the rest of his bulldog face was expressionless. "And the magistrate -- who, I might add, loves dogs and owns about six -- is going to be pretty damn sympathetic to your friend's situation, let me tell you. He's going to find your friend guilty, because he is, but the worst he's going to do is fine your friend a couple of hundred fol and tell him never to do that again. If your friend sees one more minute of jail time after his case is heard, Mr. Jean, I will personally eat this arrest report, all right?"
     Bowman exhaled a long and shaky breath that he hadn't quite been aware of holding, and relaxed, just a little. Forcing his hands to unclench, Bowman said, "... thank you. Yeah. That helps a lot." He took a deep breath and added, "... but I still can't leave the little guy in there overnight. Isn't there any way I can get him out? If I promise to bring him to court tomorrow no matter what?"
     There was a brief pause as Savin weighed Bowman's words carefully, and then, with just a hint of regret, he shook his head again. "Believe me, I'm sorry, Mr. Jean, but Lacourian law doesn't permit such a thing. My hands are tied. I'm afraid he'll have to stay in there until tomorrow."
     Bowman swallowed and groped for an excuse, an idea, anything -- " -- then put me in there with him."
     Savin's eyes widened almost imperceptibly. "Excuse me?"
     "Put me in there with him." The words were halting at first, then flowed out faster as the idea took shape in Bowman's head. "It won't kill me, it's just overnight -- I wouldn't feel right about leaving him in there alone, I worry about him, but if I can't get him out then put me in there with him and I'll keep an eye on him until tomorrow."
     This time, Savin's careful study of Bowman was prolonged and dubious, those little eyes staring at Bowman as if he'd suddenly gone mad. Guess maybe I have, his brain admitted, as he waited for Savin to say something. Finally, with a long and gusty sigh, the constable said, "... Mr. Jean, I admire your dedication to your friend, but..."
     "But?"
     "But the holding cell is only for people who've broken Lacourian law, Mr. Jean. I can't just put you in there because you ask. I could get in a lot of trouble if I put an innocent man in there, and while I am not unsympathetic, I'm not willing to risk that for you and your friend. It's one night, Mr. Jean. He'll be fine. Good afternoon." And with that, Savin grunted and looked back down at the arrest report, obviously considering this conversation over.
     Bowman let his eyes fall to the desk in front of him, his mind racing madly. His gaze raked over Savin's meaty hands, the arrest report, the battered pen and inkpot, the green-shaded lantern, the half-empty mug of coffee... quickly, before he thought about it too much, Bowman's hands flicked out and seized the mug. Savin jerked his head up, startled, as Bowman chugged the rest of the coffee out of the mug; then, with a single convulsive motion, he threw the mug as hard as he could against the floor. It shattered with a report like cannonshot, sending shards of white ceramic skittering everywhere. Spreading his hands in front of the now thoroughly boggled Savin, Bowman firmly stated, "There. Theft, destruction of property, vandalism, whatever you want -- now put me in there."
     For a moment, silence reigned as the two men watched each other across the desk, Bowman with his jaw stubbornly set, Savin with his tiny eyes as wide as they could possibly get. Bowman's mind had plenty of time to squeak, What the hell are you doing?! Then, his face carefully neutral, Savin shoved his chair back and stood up with another little grunt. "... Mr. Jean, it is my duty under Lacourian law to inform you that you are hereby under arrest for littering -- "
     "Littering?" A perfectly ridiculous grin threatened to break out on Bowman's face. Ruthlessly quashing the urge, he stood up as well, holding his hands out towards the constable, who solemnly dug out a pair of handcuffs and clicked them onto Bowman's wrists.
     " -- which is deemed illegal under current Lacourian law, and you are, therefore, required to accompany me to a place of confinement until such time as your case can be heard by the magistrate. Please come along quietly and make no effort to resist." Ritual completed, the heavy formal tone left the constable's voice, and the faintest glint of humor shone on his heavy squared face as he eyed Bowman. "... did you have to drink the coffee first, Mr. Jean? I know for a fact that it's terrible."
     Bowman shrugged, letting his cuffed hands fall in front of him. "Didn't want to leave you more of a mess than I had to, I guess. I can clean that up for you, if you want..."
     Savin put one hand on Bowman's shoulder, guiding him towards the long hallway. "... that won't be necessary, I think."

     Bowman expected the cell door to slam dramatically, a ringing resounding clang of metal on metal as his freedom was locked away behind him; the soft, precise 'chunk' of the door closing was almost a letdown. He held his cuffed hands out to Savin, who reached in through the bars and reclaimed the cuffs, making them vanish into his back pocket again. Reaching up to touch his forehead with one finger in a salute, Savin said, "The magistrate will hear your case in the afternoon. Good night, Mr. Jean."
     Bowman remained there in front of the bars as Savin's heavy footfalls thudded away, running one hand idly up along one of the bars. Then, shaking his head slightly, he turned around and looked around the cell, looking for Noel.
     Noel was back in the same corner as before, sitting cross-legged on the ground while the puppy frisked -- a little stiffly -- on the ground in front of him. Completely unaware of Bowman's presence, Noel beamed down at the puppy, holding out one finger for it to chew on; after a moment he fished in his pants pocket and came out with one of the small chunks of dried meat he always seemed to have on him, letting the puppy gnaw on that instead. 
     After a moment, swallowing that damned persistant lump in his throat, Bowman picked his way across the cell towards Noel. The puppy was the first to notice him, yelping and diving for cover behind Noel; still oblivious, the little Nedian murmured, "Hey, what's wrong?" and twisted around, trying to follow the puppy. 
     Coming to an uncertain halt five feet from Noel, Bowman finally gave in and cleared his throat. Noel let out a strangled squawk and whipped around, both hands flying up defensively; a second later he recognized the intruder and his face exploded into that huge, loopy, enthusiastic grin. "Bowman! Man! How'd you get in here? What's up?"
     "Oh, nothing, just thought I'd come keep an eye on you, make sure you were gonna be okay..." Bowman lowered himself to the ground next to Noel, holding out one hand to the puppy. The dog whimpered and scooted around back behind Noel, tucking its tail between its legs. A bit nettled, Bowman pulled his hand away and informed the puppy, "I'm not a vicious killer, you know."
     Noel let his arms fall, picking up the dog and hugging it to his chest. "It's okay!" he told the puppy, beaming. "It's just Bowman. He's cool! He's got dogs too, you know..." The dog whined and licked Noel's nose in response, making Noel squirm and laugh. What am I gonna do with you, Noel? Bowman thought helplessly, watching the little Nedian play with the littler puppy as if absolutely nothing was wrong. What am I gonna do...
     Not a moment later, the puppy frisked over to Bowman and licked his ankle. And despite everything, Bowman burst out laughing.

     The late afternoon sunlight traveled slowly across the floor and up the opposite wall, turned orange, then dark red, then eventually vanished. Noel's seemingly bottomless pockets produced enough dried meat to feed all three of them slightly less than adequately, and Bowman's own pockets yielded half a pack of cigarettes and his lighter, which did a lot to maintain his oddly cheerful mood. They passed the time with idle talk about nothing much, friends and memories and current events, save this one; neither of them seemed too eager to talk about their incarceration. The drunk in the opposite corner slept on, quietly now. None of them paid him much attention.
     Outside the narrow barred windows, the stars winked on, one by one, as the evening ended and the night began. The puppy, round-bellied and stuffed near to bursting with his own dinner and about half of Noel's, sprawled out over Noel's lap and fell asleep, making tiny whimpering noises and pawing at the air in its sleep. Noel petted its belly absently, watching the oversized paws flail back and forth in the dim moonlight, plainly completely charmed. Eventually, his other hand drifted up to his face, stifling a massive yawn.
     Bowman turned away, lighting another cigarette, his lighter splashing a flare of soft orange light over his face for just a moment. Taking a deep drag and exhaling it in a long rush of smoke, he finally said, "There's nothing to worry about, really. You and I and the dog are all gonna be out of here by this time tomorrow... just promise me you won't go around punching people any more, okay, Noel?"
     A small muffled snore was the only answer he got. Bowman sighed and told the world at large, "... and feel free to get some sleep if you need to. I don't mind. Why would I mind?"
     Noel's head slowly drooped down, then jerked back up. Drooped back down, and jerked back up. Over and over. Bowman watched this process for a few moments, then sighed and looped his arm around Noel's narrow shoulders, pulling the sleeping Nedian down against his own shoulder. Noel promptly mumbled something completely unintelligible in his sleep and curled up tight against Bowman's side, the puppy still sprawled out in his lap.
     For a few minutes, the only thing that moved in the dark cell was the ember of Bowman's cigarette, a faint orange coal drawing strange slow glyphs in the darkness. Finally, stubbing out the butt, Bowman turned his head to look at Noel, curled up against his side, fast asleep. "Man. What am I going to do with you?" he asked the sleeping Noel and the empty air.
     And then he rested his cheek against the top of Noel's head and settled in to try and get some sleep himself. The puppy whimpered in its sleep, batting at the air with both front paws; then all was still and quiet in the Lingan jail.